Step into the foyer of Kiama Council chambers, and you’ll see an image that captures what this community treasures: on one side, a tranquil dairy farm, cows grazing against a backdrop of rolling green hills; on the other, the stunning coastline, waves crashing in a scene synonymous with Kiama’s identity. But let us take a closer look at this visual declaration of values. What does it mean when those cherished green hills are replaced by rooftops and cul-de-sacs?

Kiama Council Foyer 

Urban expansion is inevitable, we are told, a consequence of population growth and the demand for housing. Yet, the way we grow is not inevitable, it’s shaped by choices we make as a community. Sprawl happens when we resist density. Many of us baulk at the idea of five storey apartments or high-density housing, preferring our towns to remain low and sprawling. But if we are not willing to go up, we must go out. And going out means developers will do what developers do best; seize the opportunity to turn farmland into subdivisions.

Take the lush green paddocks west of Kiama, captured in the second image, where dairy cows roam. It’s a familiar, grounding sight. But here is the catch: a farmer does not own this land. It belongs to a developer, and this land lease exists on a handshake agreement. This arrangement speaks volumes about the precariousness of agricultural land in the face of urban pressure. It is not just a matter of time but of priorities. When the bulldozers come, the cows will be gone, and with them, a way of life.

Spring Creek Looking South  

This land is more than just a postcard-perfect view. It is part of a thriving dairy farm, feeding the next generation of cows who will produce milk for families and sustain livelihoods. Yet, within the next decade, it could be carved into blocks, another casualty of our resistance to reimagining how we live. When we trade pastures for pavement, what else do we lose? Not just milk production or the soothing sight of grazing cattle, but the ability to connect with the land that defines us.

This is not a sentimental argument for preservation at all costs. Growth is necessary. People need homes. But let us acknowledge what we are trading away with every development approval. If we want to save our agricultural landscapes, we need to have honest conversations with each other about density and liveability. Four-storey apartments might feel unthinkable now, but are they more unthinkable than losing the very landscapes we cherish as the heart of our community?

Kiama’s beaches will endure, but the dairy farms may not. The council’s foyer reminds us of what we value. Let us ensure those values guide us before it’s too late.